Chapter CVII – No man can serve two masters.

79th of Summer 5859
Castle Casamonu, Casamonu

“I can’t believe I’m heading to the castle under such circumstances…” muttered Inkwell by himself as he headed up the stairs leading to Castle Casamonu. All his servants, which were just the workers of his printing press, had been seized by his daughter collaborating with the anti-Imperial savages. He was left with neither pomp or circumstance. While Inkwell wasn’t a man obsessed with pomp, the circumstances didn’t please him at all. Up and up he went on his own two feet ‘till he was at the tippy top of the hill. The red brick of the castle greeted him through the gates.

Also through the gates was a whole load of sheep, and men sat around the sheep. One familiar old man was standing, giving a lecture while holding a bucket of liquid. He was standing next to a pit with stone walls. “…now, let me tell you with all honesty: none of you know how to process wool properly. Nor do you know how to properly take care of your flock! Look at this-” Brown walked towards one sheep. It had maggots wriggling around its eyes, so did a few of its comrades in sheephood. He patted the head of the sheep gently as if petting a newborn kitten. Then he took out a brush from the bucket of liquid and smacked some liquid around the eyes of the sheep. Soon a few maggots dropped dead on the ground. “Treating grubs is this simple, gentlemen. Instead of smoking tobacco, you should boil it in some water like this and use it to treat your flock for once. I don’t want to see any infested sheep running around town again, got it? Let all your shepherd acquaintances know.”

The crowd of sitting men around Brown were busy taking mental notes when Inkwell had finally approached Brown. “Brown-”

Brown raised a finger to his lips. “Ssh. I’m not done here. Take a seat, maybe you’ll learn something as well.” Inkwell stared at the old man in sheer astonishment, wondering whether he had gone insane to go down to the level of shepherds as the so-called leader, but he was eventually intimidated by Brown’s miffed gaze to stand down. After his guest was forcibly inducted into his lecture, Brown jumped down to the stone pit he had set up. His head peaked out from below the ground while he spoke, and a few of the shepherds approached the man and his pit out of curiosity. “Now, this is an ashery. Collect yourself some bracken, or some birch wood, and burn it in one of these.” He had already placed all items needed to demonstrate them to the crowd while talking. Brown raised a plate of ashes from the pit to show to the shepherds.

“Sir, we already know how to make ash…” replied one of the shepherds. “Why’d you want a bunch of ash? Are we making soap? What’s that got to do with sheep?”

“Patience! It’s got everything to do with sheep.” Brown then raised a cauldron filled with quicklime in water. “Now, get some quicklime which we have plenty of in the mountains together with the ash. Boil them together, add some fat and…” The old man raised a particularly fine bar of soap that he had made. “…soap! Now, this is only the beginning. I asked you to bring samples of your best wool. Could one of you hand me a sample?”

One of the shepherds handed Brown a lump of unclean, greasy wool. Brown looked at it as if it was the Devil. “Is this really the best you have? Would you dare sell this at the market?”

“It’s the tailor’s job to clean the wool. We don’t really bother with cleaning it.” said the shepherd who handed the wool. “Don’t know how to clean wool anyways.”

“Then you’ll learn. See this?” Brown took out a pile of wool that he had cleaned beforehand. He had stuffed it in his pocket for today. “Now, imagine you’re at the market and looking to buy wool. Which one would you buy: this mangy, greasy piece, or this clean piece? Wouldn’t you be willing to pay extra for a bundle that looks to be of way higher quality?”

The shepherds around him were nodding, looking at the fluffy, pure white piece of wool that Brown was holding. It looked as if the old man had flown and stolen a cloud from the heavens. “As you can see, making some soap is very simple. Get the grease off the wool by washing it with some soap, washing your sheep before shearing would be even better, and it’ll look as soft as a cloud. The Republic has abolished any guild-related restrictions that may cause you trouble if you make some for yourself. Spend time keeping your sheep healthy and clean your wool, and I assure you that you’ll have yourself some premium wool that the people in the market will clamor to buy.” With Brown having finished his lecture in the courtyard, the shepherds dissolved and took their sheep. Now, only Brown and Inkwell remained.

“W-what was that?” suddenly exclaimed Inkwell “Why do we have shepherds in the castle?!”

Brown pocketed the soft wool that he had taken out before “You see Mister Inkwell: I was wandering around the town market yesterday. My socks went completely bust, so I wanted to buy some wool to make a new pair.”

Inkwell scratched his head. “…you make your own socks? Can’t you see a tailor?”

“Why spend money on a tailor when I can make my own pair?” answered Brown. For a second he thought whether or not he should take off his socks then and then to show off how snazzy they looked, but he quickly realized how awkward that’d be. “Ahem! To get back on point, I found that the quality of wool was lacking in Casamonu. That turned into an argument with the seller, and it ended up with him daring me to show how I could get ‘this mangy fur’ into shape. After I delivered this specimen here” he raised up the fluffy pile of fool still in his hands “the man was sufficiently convinced. That apparently resulted in my name spreading around the shepherds, so I took this opportunity to invite them for a lecture.”

“Uhm… yeah.” Inkwell sufficed by idly nodding. He didn’t really get why a man, who now ruled an entire county, would care about a bunch of shepherds running around the place. “I can’t believe Casamonu fell to an ex-shepherd…”

“Ex? I’d still consider myself to be a shepherd, I’ve been one since my youth herding my father’s sheep, though I’ll admit that I lack sheep at the moment. Next week the shepherds agreed to bring their flocks, so that I can inspect and buy the finest sheep that they have.” Brown grasped Inkwell by the shoulder, holding him close “Imagine: The finest bred sheep in Gemeinplatz! No longer shall the wool growers be held down by their emaciated, sickly sheep! I-”

Inkwell escaped from Brown’s grip. “Mister Brown, don’t get close to me. I’m just here for business.”

Brown’s hand remained in the hair for a minute before he exited his sheeplike trance. “Excuse me, I was caught up in excitement. Ahem – congratulations on your victory, Mayor Inkwell.”

Mayor Inkwell seemed taken aback by the amicable reception. “I thought I’d be hanging from a tree like all the other men of nobility. Are you toying with me?”

“No, we only executed those who committed crimes against the Lord by chaining men in captivity” replied Brown “You didn’t have any slaves, no?”

Inkwell shook his head “No. Printing is a skilled business, so slaves would have been quite useless.”

“Then, you have nothing to fear, unless you are plan on going on a tirade like you did with your speech. A mayor who’s well-versed in the goings on of Casamonu is welcome.” Brown had been disappointed with his candidate not winning, and surprised that victory had come despite the overwhelming rural vote, but the Almighty definitely had a plan if He had let him win.

“You are a lunatic.” Inkwell heaved a deep sigh “A real lunatic. I sincerely hope that Imperial order will be restored soon.”

“If you sincerely hoped that, you’d have made your way out of Casamonu to an Imperial settlement. In fact, you are free to do so – we won’t stop you. Change is frightening, Mister Inkwell, but I believe you’ll come to like it here.”

“I’ll just do my best to protect Casamonu from your lunacy” concluded Inkwell. He left Brown without even giving a proper farewell.

Ayomide, having been watching from behind a nearby tree, popped out behind Brown. “Captain, is it a good idea to leave this man be?”

“No, but not leaving him be won’t solve anything. Inkwell is a symptom, not the disease.” Brown pocketed the pile of wool he was still holding. “Even if we, using honest words, rigged odds against him he won fairly. The solution is to make it so that the people of Casamonu will learn why men like him aren’t a good idea. Otherwise, the moment we’re gone, an Inkwell by another name will take absolute control.”

“How do you plan on doing that? Gemeinplatz has had a very long time to learn, you know.”

“We either find a way to do that, or we’ll all wallow in ignorance and kill each other to extinction. May Providence guide us to an amicable end.” Brown took a step towards the castle “Now, let’s try to make things right. I have a few ideas.”